Dreaming of Nightmares
by Ersatz Writer
Summary: A young Franziska is unsettled by a bad dream, and runs to see Miles, completely unaware of the fact that Miles had also been tormented by nightmares... For five years.


**Disclaimer: Ace Attorney and all its characters and settings belong to Capcom**

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**Dreaming of Nightmares**

_This is just an exception_, Franziska told herself grimly as she padded down the corridors of the von Karma mansion, clutching her trusty whip tightly in her hands. _This is just an exception. I am _not_ frightened of anything! I'm just… unsettled. That's why._

The mansion was dark. Her parents and her sister had retired to bed a long time ago, as had Miles Edgeworth, her adopted brother, and the butler. Franziska felt a little nervous, but only a little. _It was just a bad dream_, she told herself reasonably. _A figment of your imagination, nothing solid…_

As she passed by a window, a tree branch creaked and scraped against the glass, and she yelped a little in surprise. Hastily, she muffled her mouth and kicked herself for being such a fool. _Don't be so jumpy! _She cursed herself. _You'll be alright soon…_

She didn't particularly want to do this, but she had been… unnerved by her dream, and the thought of spending the rest of the night alone had not been appealing. Her parents, especially her father, she knew, did not tolerate late night interruptions and displays of weakness, and her sister was just as fierce. They were people Franziska would not have dared to meddle with. Miles Edgeworth, on the other hand…

Well, she brought her whip for a reason. She'd always known Miles was a soft-hearted fool anyway, despite all appearances. Half the time, he was nothing but words, and besides, it was her house, and she would remind him with her whip if he did not submit quietly to her wishes.

Finally, she approached Miles' bedroom door. It was closed, but creaked open when she shoved it. The room was too dark to make out anything, though she could hear her adopted brother's soft breathing. Quietly, she hissed: "Miles!"

Naturally, Miles did not respond, though it irked her anyway, as she liked to have him at her beck and call, whatever the situation and whatever the hour. Raising her voice a little more (the mansion was large, it was unlikely anyone else would hear) she tried again: "Miles Edgeworth!"

The boy made no sound, and, her short patience reaching its limit, Franziska stormed in. "Miles Edgeworth!" She was no longer keeping her voice down, though she did shut the door behind her. Angrily, she switched on the lights, and finally, the boy on the bed groaned, stirring.

"F-Father…?" He mumbled, uncertainly, his eyes still closed.

"It's me, you fool!" She snapped, moving closer to the bed. "Wake up!"

Miles moaned again, blinking rapidly at the light until his eyes finally focused upon her. For a moment, he looked disappointed, but that expression was gone when he rubbed his eyes and sat up. "Ugh… What is it, Franziska? It's late…"

"I want to spend the night here, Miles Edgeworth!" Franziska declared, folding her arms haughtily across her chest. "Now, move over!"

Miles blinked owlishly. "Excuse me…?" He still sounded drowsy. "Where's your bed?"

Franziska whipped him, and that certainly seemed to clear his head. Wincing at the angry red streak across his arm, the elder boy looked at his seven-year-old sister, and shook his head.

"Ngh… Alright." He concurred, sighing in defeat. "You can stay here tonight, if you really want." And then he began to climb out of his bed.

Franziska lashed him again. "What are you doing, you fool?" She snapped, incredulous. Had he turned stupid in the middle of the night? Perhaps he had hit his head on the bedside table, and she was almost about to voice her thoughts out loud when she saw Miles looking at her in the same way.

"I thought you wanted my bed." He stated, blankly.

Franziska snarled. "I don't want your bed, you fool!" She folded her arms. "I want y- !"

Her words stopped short, and suddenly she realised how awkward she would have sounded if she had not shut herself up in time. Miles was still looking at her, but now his eyes were clearer, sharper. Franziska hoped she would not have to explain herself.

She didn't. "I see," said Miles softly, settling back under the covers. "… Nightmare, was it?"

"N-No! N-Nothing of the sort!" Stubbornly, Franziska averted her eyes and crept, a little shyly, into the bed besides Miles. "I just want to… Test this bed. See how it feels compared to mine." She sniffed. "If I like this bed more, I'll have Papa swap the beds around! That's it."

"… I see," said Miles, in a tone which vaguely suggested he wasn't buying any of it. Franziska scowled angrily, and gave him a sharp dig in the ribs.

"Move over! I don't have room!"

"Are you still holding that whip?" Miles asked, somewhat warily. "Because if there's one rule I have to make, then it's this: please don't bring your whip into bed."

"I-I… I wasn't going to!" Flushing, Franziska hastily tossed the weapon aside. "S-See? Are you happy now?"

"… Only marginally." Miles grumbled softly, reaching over to switch off the light. "Now, go to sleep. We have school tomorrow, and you don't want to ruin your perfect on-time record, do you?"

"I know that, Miles Edgeworth!" Franziska snapped, turning her back upon the boy. "Don't treat me as though I'm a child!"

Miles sighed audibly in the darkness, so Franziska kicked him. After that, they settled. Franziska did not like to admit it, but Miles' bed was warm and comfortable, and it was somewhat reassuring to know that, if she shifted over a little, _he_ would be there, solid and very, very real… Unlike that horrid dream of hers, filled with screams and blood and…

She shuddered involuntarily, blocking out the images. No. She, Franziska von Karma, would not be scared of any silly little dream. Her papa certainly wouldn't have been frightened, so she shouldn't be frightened either.

After that determined thought, she must have dozed off to sleep, but all too soon, she found herself opening her eyes to darkness once more.

Her pillow felt vaguely damp, unpleasantly so, and when she tried to move, she suddenly felt as though something was crushing her arm. Somewhat panicking, she turned, and found herself face to face with Miles. The boy was still asleep, but evidently it was a fitful, uncomfortable sleep, for he was frowning, and, when Franziska shifted closer, she saw, much to her astonishment, tears sliding down the boy's face.

She tried to move again, this time with more success. Miles hand was gripping her arm fiercely, refusing to let go no matter how hard she tried to pry of his fingers. _He must be dreaming_, she thought, and gave him a rough shove. "Miles Edgeworth!"

The boy moaned, his sleeping expression one of pure distress. A faint whimper escaped his mouth. "N-No…" Then he stilled again, though his grip did not seem loosen any.

She slapped him then. "Miles Edgeworth! Wake up!" His face was damp with tears, his entire body baked in cold, clammy sweat.

Finally, Miles' eyes opened, and his hand tightened so sharply around Franziska's arm that she gave a sharp yelp when his nails dug into her arm. Out of instinct she slapped him again when he attempted to sit up, and the pain finally seemed to snap Miles back into reality. His grip disappeared in favour of massaging his sore face, and he looked livid. "What was that for?!" His eyes were an angry red from his crying. Franziska had never seen him lose his composure before, but at the moment Miles looked genuinely agitated.

"You won't wake up, you fool!" She answered haughtily. "You were crying all over the pillow and you were hurting me."

Miles rubbed his eyes, his anger fading in place of quiet contemplation as he examined his damp fingers. "… Oh." Was all he said, avoiding her eyes. "… I wasn't aware of what I was doing."

Franziska scoffed. "… Hmph, well, I suppose I can forgive you this time. It obviously looked as though you weren't of sound mind."

Miles offered no response, and slowly, Franziska allowed her posture to relax slightly. "… What happened to you?" She asked, her tone softening somewhat. "Don't tell me you had a nightmare as well."

"… It's nothing," Miles muttered, lying back down on his bed. His face was turned resolutely away. "Go back to sleep, Franziska."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Franziska bristled. "I have half a mind to slap you again."

She didn't though, and eventually settled down beside him in the bed. "You can tell me, you know." She said, into the darkness.

Miles shifted. "It's just a nightmare," he murmured, though it sounded more as though he was talking to himself than to her. "… It's not real."

Franziska listened to his quiet, self-comforting murmurs for a moment. "I would have thought you were too old to have nightmares, Miles Edgeworth," she commented starkly. "They are mere figments of your imagination, nothing to be frightened over."

Miles was silent for a while, probably musing over her words. "… I suppose you're right," he answered, and though he sounded a little shaky, it sounded more like _him_ speaking. "… I'm sorry, Franziska."

"For what?" Nope, he was still a fool.

"… Nothing," Miles turned his back on her. "… Go to sleep."

"… You're scared, aren't you, Miles Edgeworth?"

She didn't expect an answer, and she didn't get one. Miles Edgeworth was proud, he'd always been proud. He would never admit his weaknesses openly, and Franziska, knowing herself to be equally prideful, understood his mentality perfectly.

Slowly, a little hesitantly, she patted his arm. "If you feel any better," she mumbled, a little awkwardly, "… I'm here." The words felt cheesy and she promised herself to never utter them in that context ever again, but at the moment, she felt they were appropriate.

Under her hand, she felt Miles stiffen, and then relax, if only slightly.

"… Thank you, Franziska." His words were quiet, but sincere. "I… I appreciate it."

"As well you should," Franziska snorted, retracting her hand. A small part of her felt mildly disgusted, but the other part felt oddly warm. She tried to focus more on the disgusted side of her emotions, but nevertheless, the warmth was present and vaguely comforting. She wondered briefly if Miles was feeling the same thing.

Later on that night, Miles cried again in his sleep, and Franziska allowed herself one small moment of intimacy by putting her arm briefly around him until the tears had ceased. She did not feel embarrassed; the memory and evidence would be gone by morning, for certainly she was not going to sleep with him huddled so close to her.

… _And this is why you'll always be my little brother, Miles Edgeworth_.

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The darkness closed in on him. Miles tried to breathe, but couldn't. The air was thin. He couldn't see; all the lights were out. Blindly he tried to reach for comfort, but no one was there. Where was his Father? Where was that other man? The elevator couldn't be that big, but suddenly it seemed like it. He fumbled around, trying not to breathe too quickly. _Have to save the air… I can't… I can't use it all up…_

"F-Father…?" He tried to whisper, but no sound came out. The darkness was silent and suffocating. He had entered the elevator with his father. Why did he feel so alone?

And then everything happened at once. He heard Gregory Edgeworth's voice, rising in volume along with the bailiff's, Yanni Yogi's. He heard the man's panicked wail, heard scuffling, felt the rapid pounding in his heart. _He's hurting Father! I have to stop him! Have to… Have to…_

The gun lay there like a twist of fate. He didn't even remember picking it up, but it was in his hands. _Get away, get away… Get away from my Father!_

That bang of the gun firing. That chilling scream… He'd collapsed then, submitting himself to the horrifying darkness. _Father… Father…_

And though that nightmare had been replaying itself for many years now, Miles was sure that, on that particular day, someone had held him close until the very end.

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**AN: **Ah, I love Miles Edgeworth so... I don't have a set pairing for him, I'm merely curious as to his different interactions with different characters. This, as you can see, is Franziska taking the spotlight. It turned out a little more pairing-feeling than I intended, (even though they're just kids here) but honestly, I think they're a pretty cute pair of siblings.

Also, this is my first Phoenix Wright fanfic, and it's only been looked over rather roughly. I will probably go back and edit this later, but in the mean time, it would be wonderful if you guys could leave me some comments and critiques, especially on any OOCness you may have spotted. It would help me greatly. Thank you very much for your time. I hope you enjoyed. :)


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